Inexorable
by furaiz
Summary: Maybe it was purely the desire to live peacefully that caused this. It's not as if doing anything now, can change things. Some things are just futile. You can't find peace by avoiding life. I understand this now… Yet… What would you do given the choice once more? As cruel as it sounds, I don't think I'd change my decision. Really. It's a shame not everyone sees it my way. ON HIATUS


**Prologue**

* * *

Fragments of memories flitter through my waking dreams. The explosions, flashes of light from spells, the cold, chilling hiss of his voice. Even after all this time. It never changes really. A punishment for an already broken man. At least, that's the way it seems. Appearances are deceiving. Perhaps I'm punishing myself, reliving dark memories and nightmares on a whim. Perhaps I'm simply unmoved by any of this. It takes a certain kind of person to disregard what would be horrific torture to the minds of innocents. Then again, no one is truly innocent anymore. Who's the true monster here? Is it the one who fears death so much, he twisted and maimed himself, until he was a shadow of his former self? Or is it the one who held the hopes of a selfish nation, and let them crash and burn, simply because they weren't worth fighting for? I've searched for that answer for a long time, but it's never that simple. I know I'm a monster of some kind. Perhaps he doesn't consider himself one, but anyone else would also. Nothing is ever black or white, as much as people claimed it was. So narrow minded. And yet, I don't care. I stopped caring many ages ago.

I once thought I'd simply live the rest of my life away in peace. Simply be neutral. I made an unspoken deal with the monster, and simply left him be. I once thought I could free myself from 'duty', yet it never could be. A prophecy… What peace could I ever have? I simply cannot die from age. I realised this long ago. Tied to the world of the living for eternity by the accursed words of a prophecy… And I am all that remains with the knowledge. It would be so simple, just to die by his hand, and yet… I cannot bring myself to do it. Pray for death? I think not. As much as I wish I simply passed away long ago, it can never be so, and I can never bring myself to willingly go into the night. I know he still lives, still fears dying, still fears me. I never truly understood why that was. Why fear someone who lived by circumstance? Or perhaps fear, isn't the word. Perhaps he simply despised my existence. A reminder of his failure. His greatest failure, that is. He would be a fool to deny failures in his life. If it's a life at all. Although, I'm supposed to have died long ago. At least, that is what he believes. Perhaps he regrets not being the one to end me. I wonder. A question that will go unanswered. And not the only one.

I am his equal. I am resilient, have stood through great suffering, though I may bend at times, I have never broken. I wonder if I ever can break. I have strength in great quantities; I am resourceful, cunning, and even now, brave and courageous. One needs to be, to stand the test of time. One cannot be brave and courageous, and also a coward you might say. Am I a coward? I never thought so. Yes, I feared him, a long time ago. But it all it came down to, was a simple question. Do I want to fight? No, I never should have to fight. All I wanted was a peaceful life. He wasn't happy when I told him. What a foolish old man. I sometimes wonder if he ever thought anything of me, other than a means to an end for his 'Voldemort Problem'. Simply dust in the wind now.

If one were to look at me now, you would see an old man, weighed down by the burdens of a long and tiresome life. One tires of solitude eventually. But this is a façade. A mask within a mask, hiding me from the world. If you look deeper, you can see me. You can see a sharp steel edge within me, eyes hiding an inner fire that burns strongly and steadily. I am powerful. Like the foolish old man before me, it is easy to forget that. I appear a simple old man, yet magic swirls and sings under my skin, dances under my fingertips, ready to act upon a mere thought. My deep emerald eyes glow with power if one takes the time to see me closely. I am merely a sheathed sword. I am dangerous. Yet, I am peaceful. I have never considered going to war. Fight for what you believe in you might say. Fight for what? Did I ever really believe in anything at all? Were Voldemort and his Death Eaters evil? Yes. Of course they were. But, it has nothing to do with me. If ever I were to take up the sword, as the saying goes, I would end them without mercy, for that is all they deserved. Foolish old man wouldn't have liked that either. Yet, what was the war even about? Purity of blood? How short-sighted. Nothing to do with me. Pureblood, Half-Blood, Muggleborn, I never cared. I was simply one person, who never really liked most of the wizarding world anyway. So bigoted and useless. As for the muggle world, well I never could fit in there anymore. Not that I ever fit in really, I always felt that way due to my… relatives.

I have spent centuries analysing my entire life. A meaningless pursuit, yet infinitely perplexing. I can think of every decision I ever made, and think, what if I decided to do this instead? And then the inevitable conclusion can be drawn time after time. None of those decisions ever mattered. How utterly pointless! For everything I did, I would always do again. I would always make the same choice, whether or not another outcome would have been more favourable. Why is that? Was I led down this path? Was it inevitable? Or is it simply because, I am who I am? And so here I am again, staring out the window, at the night sky lost in my thoughts of a previous life.

* * *

**_One day…_**

_"Harry Potter." _

The man with the emerald eyes remained hunched over his desk, scratching away on a piece of parchment with his quill. No reaction was seen to the sound of a female voice whispering through the room, young and ancient at the same time.

_"It seems we have much to discuss prophecy child." _The voice continues on.

A barely noticeable twitch of his fingers is all that is noticeable, as he continues with his work. A few minutes pass before the voice speaks up once more.

_"You have no choice in this matter. I am infinitely patient, and will simply wait for you to acknowledge me. You will do so eventually, or I will simply use less… kind methods to get your attention."_ She stated lightly, the chill growing in the air with each word.

"And what is it you want of me?" Harry replied, putting down his quill, and glancing up at the person speaking. He spoke clearly and well, almost melodiously, despite many years of disuse. It was almost captivating. A lesser person would lose themselves in his words, be unable to recall what was spoken, only that it was agreeable to listen to. But the entity before him, was strong of will and mind, and could not be ensnared in the magic his voice weaved. Perhaps he was not conscious of this effect himself, yet it still was a dangerous effect. "I have no interest in your prophecy." He finished.

For the person stood before him was ancient and young at the same time, a fey and strange power surrounded her, blanketing the room with her presence. If one were to try and recall her features, they would not be able to do so, for only those on her plane of existence could truly comprehend her. To an ordinary being, she was simply female, but that is all they would ever be able to understand.

"Ahh, Lachesis." He remarked. "What interesting eyes you have."

Lachesis narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her. It was a rare occasion that she ever visited someone, and so it was even rarer that somehow, Harry Potter was able to perceive her true nature. Not to mention knowing her name, without her ever giving it. It was unnerving to a large degree, how easily a 'mortal' had bent the flow of conversation to his will, against one of the fates no less! Not that she would ever allow herself to admit it, but she felt wary of him, at least that is what she assumed, since she had never 'felt' that way before. Anger and satisfaction yes, but never this.

Despite her wandering thoughts, she pulled herself together. She was here for serious matters, not to get side-tracked and drawn into a meaningless conversation.

_"Well met Harry Potter." _She began.

"Must you use such formal language?" he interrupted. "It's not as if you consider us mere 'mortals' on your level at all."

_"We immortals are always well spoken, Harry Potter." _She ground out.

"Ah yes, always unflaggingly polite." He snuck in. "I wonder, does it irritate you if one such as you isn't shown proper respect? If that's the case, I can guarantee you one thing. I don't respect you at all." He stated, face carefully void of any emotion. Even his emerald green eyes were blank and expressionless, as the tension in the room increased.

"A shame that a coward's respect has no bearing on one such as me, Harry Potter." She fired back calmly, yet inwardly seething.

To her surprise, instead of rising to anger, he simply laughed. She belatedly realised he was toying with her, and doing so with ease.

"A sharp tongue you have, yet it strikes in the wrong place. How out of touch you must be with the world of your design." He replied, drily. "As much fun as this is, I'd rather not prolong our time together, so say what you came to say, then leave."

Lachesis simply looked upon him with a curious eye.

_"You speak as if you have any part in this world."_ She began.

A visible expression of annoyance flashed across his face at her words, before he quickly schooled his expression into one of indifference.

_"Yet, that is what I'm here to address." _She continued. _"I will ask you one question, and then I shall tell you what I am here to say."_

Harry looked at her warily.

"One question?" he asked.

_"One question."_ She affirmed.

"Then, ask what you must." He grudgingly acquiesced.

_"Did you ever have any intention of fulfilling the prophecy I designed?"_ she asked, a dangerous note in her voice.

"Surely you have realised by now, I want nothing to do with that prophecy." He scoffed. "Why you would ever curse a child with such a thing is beyond my understanding. Though, I understand immortals like you probably care little for such things."

The sudden fury caught him by surprise. Lachesis's eyes burned with rage, and her voice rattled out as cold as a howling artic wind.

_"A curse!? How dare you insult my work! You narrow-minded fool! You cannot grasp the meaning of it at all!"_

As stunned as he was, he quickly reacted, drawing upon his magic to protect himself from the raging power of Lachesis.

As she began to calm down, he slowly released the energy he had been surrounding himself with as a defence mechanism. While he had remained unscathed from her anger, where he resided now resembled little more than a ruin.

"Well, how unfortunate…" he mumbled to himself, before addressing Lachesis once more. "So, did it feel satisfying?"

For a moment, it seemed as though she was about to wipe out his existence, before she blinked, slightly confused at the question.

He quickly clarified for her. "Did it feel good destroying all I had?" he spoke almost bitterly. "Not that it's the first time you've done so, but still…"

His words gave her pause for a fleeting moment. _Not the first time?_ she thought to herself. She quickly pushed that thought aside however.

_"The works of destiny can never be considered a curse, Harry Potter."_ She replied, ignoring his question. _"And the destiny I set aside for you was a gift beyond all compare."_

_"However, you simply refuse to fulfil it… How… frustrating."_

_"Therefore, you left with me no choice. I simply had to change your destiny instead, and gift someone else with this great destiny."_

"You have already changed my destiny?" he asked incredulously.

_"Not yet. There are certain parameters that must be adjusted. And that is why I am here."_ She replied swiftly.

"As much as I despise you fates, I know when I am at your mercy." He spoke grudgingly. "So you are here to make me do something it seems. I do hope I never see you again once you're done."

_"Perhaps"_ she replied vaguely. _"In any case, I am simply here to reset your time, as it were."_

"You're putting me backwards in time?" he asked, a glint of interest prevalent in his eyes.

_"Yes, though you won't be able to speak of your experiences from the future. I'll make sure of that. Oh, and you'll be going back to fourth year of Hogwarts as a transfer student. Neville Longbottom is the boy-who-lived, and the Potters don't exist, but Harry James Potter does. You'll have an authentic family tree and everything, but you'll be an emancipated minor with no family. Voldemort will still exist, but you can go and freely live your life the way you've always wanted. I am tired of having to accommodate your lack of cooperation, so I am giving you the normal life you craved."_

"Things never seem to work out like that where I am concerned…" he began. "But, I have no choice. I can't say I'll enjoy being a child once more though."

He closed his eyes for a moment before snapping them open again.

"Get it over with." He stated simply.

_"Farewell Harry Potter."_ She spoke gently, before snapping her fingers. In a blinding flash of golden light, the world changed.

_"I can only hope you become happy. But whether or not you'll consider destiny a curse later in life, well, that will depend on what you think of the few… extra changes I've made."_ She murmured to herself. _"Sometimes I wonder, perhaps my work can be seen as a curse. But I enjoy it all the same. Until we meet again, Harry Potter."_

* * *

**_AN : 20th January 2014_**

**_I should mention... This isn't your ordinary time-travel stuff. Yes, the prophecy was switched to someone else, and I intend to take full advantage of that fact, Harry doesn't want to fight in a war at all. But will he fight this time? I hope you are interested enough to find out, since nothing in this chapter gives away ANY of the big stuff, in fact, it's all rather useless information as far as story direction is concerned here. I still enjoyed writing parts of it. I can guarantee that this will deviate heavily from canon at times. The main events through fourth year will remain similar, but we're focused on Harry's viewpoint, and he DEFINITELY won't be in the tournament.(Honestly, he isn't the Boy-Who-Lived in this universe!) Also, the whole first person thing for the first half was just a random bit of inspiration on my part. It seems to work, and will be the only chapter you'll see that in, everything else will be third person. _**

**_Well, if you got to this point and enjoyed reading it, please do leave a review, let me know what you liked, what worked and didn't work, oh and do let me know if you'd like to see more of this soon. I'd be happy to slide out another chapter pretty quickly if you found the premise interesting. _**


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